


Meditations on Purpose

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: Another Space and Time (Star Wars fics) [27]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A Clone and his Jedi, Beginnings, Friendship, Gen, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Protective Cody, Protective clones, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: Cody. Obi-Wan. A moment alone, waiting for rescue.





	Meditations on Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> Posted first at my [Tumblr](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com) and at my [Dreamwidth](http://raptureofthemoon.dreamwidth.org).

* * *

“General?”

Obi-Wan looked away from the center of the small fusion lamp as Cody stirred, tentatively sat up, pressing his back to the wall of the rocky outcropping Obi-Wan had hidden them beneath.

“You’re awake. _Good_.” 

“Sir—“

“Comms are down. I did manage to get a short encrypted message to the _Resolute_ by using the battledroid’s power cell, before it burned out and...”

The commander was listening, Obi-Wan knew, but in that compartmentalized way of many military personnel Obi-Wan had met, taking the new information and sorting it into place to be fully examined later. 

Cody’s face was pensive in the low light of the lamp and then he flinched. “My leg! It was broken,” he said quietly, reaching to touch his shin over the thin blacks. 

“It was,” Obi-Wan said. “I healed it. Your armor is just there.” He pointed past the tabard he’d taken off and folded to pillow Cody’s head. 

“You healed me?”

“I—yes. The wounds on your face, though… I’m afraid those will scar. My energy went to healing your leg.”

Cody chuckled, the sound warm and throaty. “Scars are just decoration. Saves me gettin’ the tattoos some of my brothers have elected to try.” 

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. It felt strange, such a gesture, alien in this new world of Republic armies and Jedi taking up the mantles of Generals. 

“Right, then.” Cody stood, testing his leg before pulling on his thigh gauntlet, knee pad and boot. “I’ll take watch. You get some rest, General.” 

“Jedi need very little sleep.”

Cody turned to him. The lamp highlighted the sharp planes of his face, eyebrows arched in a way that Obi-Wan was beginning to become familiar with as the commander’s “I will not put up with nonsense, be it from Jedi or my brothers” face. 

“General, before this mission, there was the relief effort on Biitu, and the skirmish in Oktaro. By my estimates, you’ve slept 12 hours in the last standard week. And that’s assuming you’ve actually slept when you’ve disappeared into your quarters. Jedi or not, you could do with the rest. So sleep. Sir.”

“You do pay attention,” Obi-Wan said, almost to himself. 

“Comes with the territory, sir.” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, slowly. “I think I’ll meditate.”

“That as good as sleep, sir?”

Something in Cody’s tone made Obi-Wan tell the truth. “It’s a stop-gap measure. But it will serve until rescue comes.”

The commander looked like he wanted to say more, but pressed his lips into a thin line and gave a short, clipped nod. “Very well, General.” 

  


Cody watched as Obi-Wan settled more firmly on the spot of ground he’d claimed as his own. Ankles crossed, arms loose with his hands cupping his knees. 

Cody checked their supplies and watched General Kenobi’s chest rise and fall as he breathed steadily. He checked his weapon, saw the wind catch a lock of the General’s copper hair and twist it. He scanned the horizon, found his eyes drawn back to the General’s face, his eyes closed, his mouth soft. 

They were about the same age, Cody thought, in physiology if not in years actually lived. But like this, the General looked younger. His face softened, his hair fallen out of its carefully maintained style. Cody could almost imagine him at General Skywalker’s age. He wondered what he was like then. 

He didn’t know much about his General, personally. He did know he was shouldering responsibilities that few Jedi had in recent history. Peacekeepers turned into law men, negotiators turned into warriors. General Kenobi was no stranger to violence. No. Cody could read that in him. In the way the General surveyed a room as he entered, in the way he  _acted_ —instead of reacting—in the face of a sudden attack. But he wasn’t used to violence of this kind. Not the widespread death and destruction without end brought about by the Separatist War Machine. 

It would wear on him. 

The thought brought a bitter taste to the back of his throat, made something deep in his gut ache. He won’t let that happen. The thought very nearly surprises him. But then...wasn’t this what he was bred for? Isn’t this his purpose? 

To serve the Jedi? To watch over his general? 

_That_ thought settled over him like a warm blanket and he leaned back against his rock, his gaze toward the horizon—looking for signs of the shuttle—but his head position so that he could watch his General out of the corner of his eyes. 

Obi-Wan meditated until rescue came, opening his eyes blearily when the shuttle touched down meters away. As they boarded the ship, Obi-Wan’s normally graceful stride failed him and he slipped on the boarding ramp. 

Cody was there to steady him, arm around the General’s shoulders and beneath his arms. And though it may have been minuscule and only for a moment, Cody felt the General allow him to bear some of his weight as they made their way into the belly of the ship. 


End file.
